


a pizza my heart

by flirtingwithtrackers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Pizza, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flirtingwithtrackers/pseuds/flirtingwithtrackers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bellamy is a pizza delivery guy and clarke is in need of sustenance</p><p>or, the one where clarke is alone watching star wars, bellamy is a nerd, and clarke invites him in anyways</p>
            </blockquote>





	a pizza my heart

**Author's Note:**

> for the precious [historianbellamy](http://historianbellamy.tumblr.com), who won a drabble in [my fic giveaway](http://clarkeslight.tumblr.com/post/116748946867)
> 
> prompt: ‘my room mate is out celebrating her 3 year anniversary with her bf and I’m really sad cause I haven’t been on a date in a year so I ordered two large pizzas and it turns out the delivery boy is super hot so I invited him in to finish watching star wars and NOW I’M RIDING HIS DICK’ au

Clarke groans in relief and excitement when her apartment buzzer goes off behind her. She rushes over to the door to buzz in the pizza guy, impatiently awaiting her two large Hawaiian pizzas. Raven’s out for the night, celebrating three years— _three years_ —with her boyfriend Wick, and she _hates_ pineapple on her pizza. Clarke can practically hear her yelling, _Fruit does not belong on pizza, Clarke. It’s an abomination!_ So while her roommate is out being wined and dined—and probably fucked in the backseat of Wick’s restored 1971 Ford Torino GT—Clarke is going to buy pizza with fruit on it, lounge around in her pajamas, and watch shitty movies on TV.

All by herself. 

Clarke tries not to cringe at that thought, reminded _once again_ that she hasn’t been on a date in at least a year, and hasn’t met anyone she even liked enough to _try_ to date in even longer. All thoughts of potential eternal loneliness are once again pushed from her mind as she hears three firm knocks on her front door.

She opens the door, eyes immediately landing on the bright red bag in the delivery guy’s hands, the smell of pizza hitting her in the most delicious way. It’s not until the pizza is on her kitchen counter as she walks back over to the door, wallet in hand, that she notices the extremely attractive delivery guy standing in her doorway. Or the fact that she’s wearing nothing but short pajama shorts that are practically swallowed up by thin blue fabric of her big t-shirt.

Clarke tries not to think about how the pizza guy is very indiscreetly looking at her legs—or the fact that she’s not wearing a bra and she _really_ hopes he can’t tell—as she pulls some bills out of her wallet. She looks up at him, her eyebrows raised.

He coughs and looks away briefly, giving Clarke a chance to survey his features—the dusky color of his skin, the freckles scattered across his skin, the broad line of his shoulders, the way his curly hair is trying to burst free of the ridiculous red cap he’s wearing. When he looks back at her, she tries to focus on a spot near his eyes.

“That’ll be $41.83,” he says, and his voice is deep and _heavenly_ and Clarke tries not to look affected. She notices the small scar just over his top lip before snapping her head down to look at her wallet. 

While the cute blonde is rifling through her bills, Bellamy is looking behind her—and _not_ at her legs, okay?—taking in the messy apartment. There is a single wine glass sitting on the small table by the couch, filled with a deep red, and Star Wars is playing on the small television in the center of the room. He briefly wonders if she really plans on eating those pizzas alone, curled up on her couch drinking wine and watching Star Wars. He also tries not to find it endearing, that she’s having a night alone on a Friday night in her _very transparent_ pajamas. Bellamy stares at the screen for a few moments before speaking, unable to stop himself.

“Is that _The Empire Strikes Back_?” he asks, as though he doesn’t already know after watching Leia call Han “a stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder.” Bellamy physically had to stop himself from mouthing along to the next line and impersonating the look of offense on Han’s face— _Who’s scruffy-looking?_

The girl looks up at his question, a soft pink tingeing her cheeks. She tucks her blonde hair behind her ear before responding, “Oh, umm, yeah.” She looks back at the television for a moment and Bellamy tries not to take the opportunity to look down her body again, to the long, lean legs on display below the hem of her shirt. He can almost see the pattern of her shorts through the material and he quickly gazes over her chest, trying not to look too closely. “It was just on TV,” she continues. “I used to love watching Star Wars with my dad, so I couldn’t bring myself to change the channel." 

Her eyes look a little sad when he looks back at her, her big blue eyes a little glassy even though she’s smiling. Bellamy scrambles for something to say, something to make her feel better. “Well, this is the best one. You’re lucky it wasn’t _Return of the Jedi_ or, god forbid, _Attack of the Clones_ ,” he says with a small chuckle when he sees the scowl on her face.

“I like _Return of the Jedi_ ,” is all she says, handing him a few bills. He thinks she might be mad at him, but her lips quirk up into a half smile when he has the decency to look a little embarrassed.

“Here’s your change,” he says, handing it over, looking down.

“Thank you,” she says, even as she hands him $5 for a tip.

Bellamy yawns before he can thank her, a big yawn that has his eyes watering a little.

Clarke leans up against her door, arms crossed on her chest, pushing up her breasts, she’s sure. She tries not to smirk when she sees the pizza guy look for a few seconds before lifting a hand to adjust his cap and turning his gaze away.

“Long night?” she says, realizing that it must be past midnight.

“Yeah, I’m covering for a friend. Ended up with a double shift.” He checks his watch, “I get off in 45 minutes though, only have a few more pies to deliver in this part of town.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it,” Clarke says. “Thanks for the pizza.”

Bellamy smiles at her, giving her a brief nod. He shifts the pizza bag under his arm before moving away from the doorframe to walk back down the hall.

She swings the front door shut, stopping just before it’s closed. He can see her in the crack, half her body hidden behind the door when he looks back at her.

“Wait,” Clarke calls, opening the door a bit. She’s nervously fidgeting with the collar of her shirt as she speaks. “The movie just started… If you want to come by after your shift and, uh, finish it.” When he doesn’t respond she rambles further, “I mean I know you probably don’t want pizza, since you work at a pizza place and everything, but I’m sure--”

She stops when he speaks, walking back down the hall towards her. “I’d love to,” he says, a big grin stretching across his face.

“Great,” Clarke smiles, tugging lightly at the bottom of her shirt hem.

She watches as he walks down the hallway and smiles when he gives her a small wave at the end of the hall.

It’s not until he’s gone and she’s standing over her two large pizzas that she realizes she doesn’t even know his name. Clarke curses herself for not paying better attention to the name tag that was probably pinned to his work shirt. _Oh well, hopefully she’ll know it soon enough._

She texts Raven later that night after she buzzes a certain pizza delivery boy—no longer in uniform and looking _even_ better, she might add—back up to her apartment, making sure she’s staying the night at Wick’s.

**Yeah, why?**

_I may have invited the pizza guy to stay for a while_.

**Get it, girl ;)**

**Author's Note:**

> open to writing a part 2 if anyone wants it, for the _riding his dick_ part ~
> 
> come cry with me on [tumblr](http://clarkeslight.tumblr.com) :))


End file.
